


The Wind and I

by Kuroeia (Empatheia)



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-08
Updated: 2006-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-08 00:39:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empatheia/pseuds/Kuroeia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin watches him grieve for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wind and I

I always loved his almost-smiles.

He rarely let them get as far as his face, unless he was trying to scare someone, but I could see them, clear as day and mountain rivers. They always made me smile back, no matter what blackness was wrapped around my heart, no matter what yellow-green sickness twisted through my veins. His smiles always had the ability to make me happy.

He isn't smiling now, and that simultaneously crushes me and makes me wish I could weep with joy, because it means he loved me after all.

I was not old when I died, despite the magic of Tenseiga and the power of its owner's will. There are some things even magic cannot cure, and whatever struck me down was one of them.

The helpless frustration in his eyes as he watched me cave in on myself day by day, becoming a sunken, doughy thing that bore little resemblance to my old fire, was the worst thing I'd ever had to suffer through. Forget the sickness, forget the pain. Seeing the person I loved most wounded by my silent decay was infinitely worse.

He always had a fondness for impossible places, so of course it makes sense that he would be here now, standing on that crag as though trying to become part of it. His hair would never allow that, though; it's too fond of motion.

His eyes, as always, are blank and unreadable... to anyone but me, that is. He grieves, he grieves enough to split the world asunder if he ever surrendered to it. Was I that precious to him? Did he really treasure my constant, chattering presence and audacious fingers? It would seem that way. He did not look this distraught even when Kagura died, and I _know_ he loved her.

How am I seeing this? I have no eyes, no ears, no fingers to touch him, but somehow I know that when I caress his cheek like _this,_ he knows I'm here.

He almost smiles and almost cries, and I wrap my emptiness around him.

The wind is here, too, and I accept her, because jealousy is stupid when you're dead. She loved him, too, though in a different and redder way than mine. She has a right to be here. Besides, her presence is comforting. Watching him grieve for me is hard to bear alone.

He lets us twine around each other and around him until I know it's time to go. I'll be waiting for him wherever I fall next, and I have no doubt that he will come and find me. The way he almost smiles reassures me of that.

The wind and I soar into nothingness with golden eyes at our backs.

**X**


End file.
